Somewhere in the deep fog I heard it.
Strangely familiar, yet unknown, like the lady you run into at the grocery store and you feel like you know her but can’t place her name.
I hurriedly grabbed Mr. CPQ’s arm.
“WHAT IS THAT?” I cried with desperation.
He gazed at me with a mixture of pity and tenderness, leaned in close and whispered….
“It’s called an alarm clock.”
Apparently someone thought I needed practice getting up early since I haven’t done so in six weeks.
Apparently, someone doesn’t value his life.
Have a nice day.